


oft interred with bones

by nymja



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Spacewalker spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You did good, Clarke."</p>
            </blockquote>





	oft interred with bones

There isn’t a right way to go forward. And they all know it. Because no matter how you look at it—or who you look at it with— the end is still the same.

They lost one of their own.  
And they gained something with his blood.

He wonders if he could’ve done it. Because he’s killed before, he’s been responsible for death before. He’s lost, before. But he’s never had to sink a blade into the chest of someone who would use their last breath to thank him for it. And he’s never had to worry about what it means to put the head over the heart. Because Bellamy always,  _always_  chooses his heart first. And that doesn’t make him weak, or Clarke wrong. It just makes them different. And he can’t fault her for Finn anymore than he can fault Finn for Clarke or Raven (she managed to stop screaming a couple hours ago—he’d had to borrow a sedative from the new Chancellor). It’s not his place. He lost any chance of that place a long time ago, when he took a gun and pointed it at the Chancellor. When he kicked a block out from Murphy’s feet. When he let Charlotte jump, when he threw a radio into the river and saw shooting stars.

(maybe he does know, deep down, that he could not have pressed that knife in. maybe he does know that he’s not the type of strong that can smile and sing and promise when things can’t be fixed anymore)

Bellamy’s not sure how he feels. He’s not sure what the right call here was, not yet.

But he does know that she’s hurting. And he does know that he’s the one who goes in heart-first. That he can make this call, right here and right now.

He goes to the edge of the encampment, where Clarke is sitting with her arms around her knees, and rests a hand on her shoulder. She looks up, eyes red-rimmed, and he knows that  _this_ can be fixed and so he smiles even though the expression sinks heavy in him.

Bellamy’s voice is a whisper, hoarse and low and damn, he does almost feel like crying despite it all.

"You did good, Clarke."

She closes her eyes, and when he sees the tears fall down her cheeks he sits next to her.

And together they just  _wait._


End file.
